


The Music of Life

by orphan_account



Series: Life With Sofiya [2]
Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF, Valdaya
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Val plays his violin in a private concert for the most important audience members he will ever have. Second in the "Life With Sofiya" series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Music of Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction, not reality.

The clock read 2:17.  He stood in the shadows, the only light coming from a small lamp on the end table.  His world seemed to slow down as he paused between songs and took in the scene in front of him.  In that moment, with the sudden silence permeating the air around him, he thought that he had never felt more at peace. 

He met her gaze, his heart melting in his chest.  A small, exhausted smile graced her lips.  He smiled back before glancing down at the bridge on the instrument and making sure that the mute was still in place.  Drawing the bow lightly across its strings, he brought the violin back to life. 

While dance was one of the loves of his life, music was one of his sanctuaries.  Amidst the swells and falls that breathed through the rhythm and melody, he was able to release his emotions in the best way possible.  The violin could scream when he was angry, it could weep when he was upset, and it could soar when he was elated. 

Tonight it did something else entirely; it sang out his feelings of affection.  He lovingly drew out soft notes from the instrument, his eyes closed in contentment.  Body swaying with the movement of his arm, he rocked slowly to the soft melody that lilted from nothing but string, wood, and the pressure of his hands.  

He drew the bow one final time, the note resonating in the air before he slowly opened his eyes.  His entire world was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“I think she’s asleep now,” Zendaya whispered.  She looked down at the tiny infant laying against her chest and lightly rubbed her back, the wedding ring on her finger sparkling slightly in the low lighting.  Val carefully lowered the violin from his shoulder and placed the instrument and bow on the end table before making his way over to his wife. 

Val had been playing for his daughter since before she had left her mother’s womb.  Zendaya had told him that he was going soft, but he had wanted his son or daughter to be surrounded by music at a young age.  Whether or not they would grow to play an instrument, sing, dance, or just listen to it, he hoped that music would help guide them through their life like it had done for him.  He had gotten pretty proficient at lullabies over the course of the pregnancy and once their baby girl had been born, he had continued the tradition.  It had gotten to the point that one of the only things that calmed her down was the sound of his violin. 

His daughter had turned her head towards him as he had played and he could see that her green eyes were indeed closed.  Her dark lashes brushed against her mocha-colored skin, matching the short downy hair on her head.  He could make out the dried tear tracks on her chubby cheeks and was glad that she had finally calmed down.  His heart ached when he heard her cries. 

He knelt down beside them and looked into his daughter’s face.   _Sofiya._ She smelled of baby powder and was as beautiful as her namesake.  He felt Zendaya weave her fingers through his curls and he turned his head to look at her.  Her cheek rested against the top of their daughter’s head, and her eyes, while fatigued, were filled with nothing but love.  She wore an old tank top and shorts and her hair was knotted and stuck up in multiple places. 

She had never looked more beautiful. 

He reached up and tenderly cupped one of her cheeks with his hands. 

“You wanna try putting her back in the crib now?” he asked quietly.  She nodded and he helped her stand.  Walking across the nursery, she carefully placed the baby in the cradle and stepped back.  He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his head on her shoulder.  They stood silently, just watching their baby girl breathe. 

“Zendayachka,” he whispered.  “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Friendship.  Family.  Understanding.  Support.  Love.  Partnership. 

“Everything.”


End file.
